He's My Son
by Matelia-legwll
Summary: Pre-Twilight. Dr. Carlisle Cullen’s thoughts and feelings as he is in Chicago in 1918 working nights at a hospital during the Spanish Influenza Epidemic. One-shot song-fic.


**He's My Son**

By Matelia-legwll

Disclaimer: The last "fan" fic that Stephenie Meyer wrote ended up getting lost in cyberspace and then posted on her official website. As this is not posted on her website, and is actually on a fan site rather than floating around in cyberspace somewhere, it would be safe to assume that I am not Stephenie, and am not making any claims to be. The song and title belong to Mark Schultz.

Summary: Pre-Twilight. Dr. Carlisle Cullen's thoughts and feelings as he is in Chicago in 1918 working nights at a hospital during the Spanish Influenza Epidemic. One-shot song-fic.

A/N: This song got stuck in my head when I was listening to the radio the other night. At first, I thought about doing a Harry Potter fic like I usually do, but then I read a few phrases in the Twilight Saga's New Moon, this song popped back into my head, and I thought it was perfect for Carlisle and Edward's father/son relationship. I made this as historically accurate as I could. Note that Carlisle, being who he is, is much more vocal about spirituality and his views of God than Bella is. Also, please don't fault me for using Carlisle's own words to tell parts of this story. This is a known hazard for keeping close to canon.

* * *

**He's My Son**

I closed the daily paper, feeling discouraged. All the time, there was talk of how doctors were needed, all over the world. Today's paper reported:

——  
"For the week ending September 28, there were 598 cases reported in Chicago with 176 deaths. During the week ending October 7 there were 6,106 cases reported with 627 deaths. The week which ended October 14 produced 11,239 cases and 1,461 deaths. The total number of deaths from influenza and pneumonia in Chicago during the past three weeks was 2,264 compared with an average of 156 for the same period during the past five years.

"Although the situation is bad in many down state communities, it will get worse before it gets better, according to members of the state influenza commission, which meets daily. The town of Assumption in Christian county, with a population of 1,918 has reported 500 cases and has called for help. There are only four doctors and one registered nurse in the town.

"Greenup, with a population of 1,224, reported 400 cases. Two doctors live in Greenup and both are ill with influenza. Peoria reports 10,000 cases and Rockford 6,000. In Peoria two emergency hospitals have been equipped, and in Rockford, medical help has been loaned from Camp Grant, where the epidemic is rapidly being brought under control.

"More than 1,200 cases have been reported in Kankakee. Cairo reports 500. Marengo, with a population of 1,872, reported 496 and has asked for the help of outside doctors and nurses. Nokomis, which has a population of 1,973 has reported over 600 cases with no hospital facilities available. Bloomington reports 1,200 cases with 11 deaths."  
——

I sighed in frustration as I gently folded the paper open to the page with the article and let it relax once more. Greenup could use my help. Assumption and Marengo have asked for help of outside doctors. Nokomis doesn't have hospital facilities for over six hundred cases. And still I stay in Chicago, only able to work nights. I resented the fact that, to continue my façade, I couldn't continue to help through the day _and_ the night. These people could really use me. They needed as many hands to care for these patients as they could get. We were understaffed as it was.

_And how many patients would they let you care for if they knew you were a vampire?_ an annoyingly truthful little voice inside my head reminded me.

It brought my fantasy to mind yet again. In the decades since I had left Italy, I hadn't been able to find any other vampires that would consent to try out my improved diet restrictions. And so I toyed with the idea of creating a companion of my own. I had been alone in my choice for over two hundred and fifty years. And I had been toying with this idea for years, never willing to force this... life onto anyone I'd met.

However, even when I couldn't share my whole life with these humans that surrounded me, I still managed to get myself ridiculously attached. It was completely irrational for me to allow myself to get attached to these fragile humans. Especially with the detrimental outbreak that seems to be seizing the entire state and even the world. I must be some sort of a masochist.

But as the green eyes and bronze hair of the mother and son that had wormed their way into my silent and cold heart, floated through my mind, I didn't know how I should've done things so that I didn't get attached to Elizabeth Masen and her son, Edward.

Elizabeth's husband had died in the first wave of influenza. Edward Senior had been one of the one hundred and seventy six deaths reported for that first week. He had never regained consciousness in the hospital, and it was easy to avoid attachment with him, although from what I gathered, he had been an excellent gentleman and wonderful father and husband. However, it was impossible to ignore his wife and son who had truly impressed me with their courage, their goodness, their strength. I had made my plans to visit them first when I went back to the hospital. It was impossible for me to do otherwise. I had to make sure that they were all right first.

Time passed slowly. I stood, still as a statue, waiting for the sun to set so that I could go back to the hospital. At least, when I worked nights, I didn't have to worry about the sun interfering with my work schedule. I glanced again towards the paper, the numbers attracting my gaze. In the over seventeen thousand cases of influenza reported for Chicago, only two had I grown attached to.

Oh, I hadn't broken any rules. No hint of my true nature had passed from me to these vulnerable humans. But I had allowed myself to care for those two, emotionally as well as physically, when I knew that they were a heartbeat away from death. So much could change for them, while I was kept frozen. Unchanging and unchangeable. During my time in Italy, I had gathered that Caius despised me for my compassion, seeing it as a weakness. But I calculated the number of human lives that were saved by my choice, including the ones that were sick and saved by my enhanced senses, and could feel no remorse.

Finally the sun set, and I was free to leave for work. I took the normal public transportation, elevated trains of all things, wearing my face mask to blend in with the general populace. I wasn't sure how well this measure of wearing masks in public was actually protecting the humans from the disease. Seeing everything from a vampire's heightened senses left me noticing how dust motes stirred with every fragile breath, and the disease was too small for even me to see it being transmitted.

I walked into the hospital, nodding a greeting toward the harried receptionist who was muttering, 'Five new cases in the last ten minutes, I'll never get out of here. Under control, my foot.'

I walked over to my station, nodding a greeting at the doctor that I was relieving for the night. The tired nurse standing there snapped more to attention as I approached. 'Here are the names and rooms for tonight, Dr. Cullen,' she said breathlessly as she handed me the list.

'How is your family doing, Nurse Jones?' I asked politely as I slowly read the names. I memorized them instantly, and noted with a surge of gratitude that Elizabeth Masen and her son were still on my list. They had survived the day, now it was up to me to see that they survived the night.

The nurse, probably flattered, expounded on her mother's latest interference in her life, babbled on about a letter received from her brother that was fighting in the Great War, and hesitantly admitted that her sister had come down with the influenza. I nodded, after she had talked herself out, and suggested that she take a break, perhaps just switching tasks for a few minutes as she worked the last three hours of her shift. I mentioned the receptionist, and she nodded, her expression lightening as she departed for this new task.

I took advantage of her momentary absence to check on my favorite patients alone. Elizabeth was still alert, and still worrying about her son. I even caught her out of her cot, holding his hand as he fought the exhaustion. This worry was hurting her own chances, I told her time and time again, as the dizziness overcame her and I had to help her back to her cot. She was strong, I told her, she could make it through if she would relax and let her body heal. However, Edward also surprised me. Not with his strength exactly, but with the endurance he exhibited. He was so much worse off than Elizabeth, but still he clung to life with a determination that amazed me.

So much of this particular disease frustrated me. The injustice of its pick of victims, the way we couldn't actually treat the influenza itself but only try to relieve the symptoms, and, most devastatingly, the way it opened the door for other diseases to rack the victim's body and kill within hours.

Surely a merciful God could see the destruction that was killing these children. I supposed I had to trust in His omniscient knowledge. Trust that this tragedy has sense to it, even if I couldn't see it. And I certainly couldn't see it now, looking into the glistening emerald eyes of Elizabeth Masen as I listened to her vitals.

She was still strong, she will survive another day. Edward, on the other hand, I thought, turning to his cot, was steadily getting worse. I ran through the symptoms of the disease that I had observed again in my mind. Chills and fever, headache, backache, pain and soreness of extremities, general tiredness, dizziness, sudden and intense stomach pain and cramps, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, constipation, sore throat, cough, inflamed nasal passage, tingling sensation of fingers, and metallic or sulfuric taste in the mouth. Edward's fever seemed to be the dominant threat tonight; I could feel the heat radiating from his skin before I had even approached.

I did all I could to help reign in the fever, and allow him to relax once more instead of shivering. I left their room knowing that their fate was not in my hands anymore. I would trust that God would hear my prayer to spare them and, in his ultimate mercy, grant the world this gift.

* * *

_ I'm down on my knees again tonight  
I'm hoping this prayer will turn out right  
See there is a boy that needs Your help  
I've done all that I can do myself_

* * *

It was just after sunset a few nights later that my preconceived notions about myself and these humans collapsed.

That Thursday night, I went to check Elizabeth and her son first, as was my tradition for the two that I had grown attached to. I saw at once that Elizabeth had taken a bad turn during the day. The fever was raging out of control, and her body was too weak to fight it anymore. I walked over to her to try to help her body survive.

I had to admit to myself that she didn't look weak. Not when she glared up at me from her cot as I hovered over her, making a mental diagnosis of her chances.

'Save him!' she commanded me in the hoarse voice that was all her throat could manage. Of course, I thought. In all my years, I have never seen a mother's love surpassed. Even when I worked with those mothers-to-be, their only care is for their child, born or not. And Elizabeth had demonstrated that quality and protectiveness of love even before this crisis. So, I sought to reassure her.

'I'll do everything in my power,' I promised her, taking her hand. This was a calculated risk. Although I had tried to perfect my human role and that included touching the patients from time to time like a human doctor would to diagnose their injuries, I usually avoided touching the patients too often skin to skin, but her fever was so high she probably couldn't even tell how unnaturally cold my hands felt. Everything was cold to her skin. The heat of her skin burned against my own, but I focused more on her labored, determined words.

'You must,' she insisted, clutching at my hand with enough strength that I wondered if she wouldn't pull through the crisis after all. Her eyes were hard, like stones, like emeralds. They bore into me as she continued. 'You must do everything in _your_ power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward.'

Her words frightened me. She looked at me with those piercing green eyes, and, for one instant, I felt certain that she knew my secret. But how? The question burned in me. Had I been careless somehow? Had I moved too quickly, or been too strong? Had I reflected the borrowed light as I did the sun? Had she been able to register the coolness or the stone-like quality of my skin? The questions rushed through my mind, and I couldn't tear my eyes away from hers as she stared into my very being. Then the fever overwhelmed her, and her eyes closed as she slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

_ His mother is tired  
I'm sure You can understand  
Each night as he sleeps  
She goes in to hold his hand  
And she tries not to cry  
As the tears fill her eyes_

* * *

Her words echoed through my head as I turned to her son. I couldn't leave the room as Elizabeth's breathing grew more and more shallow, and her heartbeat slowed and stuttered. There Edward lay, dying also.

Did she truly realize what I was capable of?  
—'What others cannot do.'  
Would she have even wanted me to consider the damning idea that was filling my mind?  
—'Save him.'  
How could she guess what I could do?  
—'You must.'  
Could anyone really want that for her son?  
—'For my Edward.'  
Did she think I was some sort of miracle worker?  
—'That is what you must do.'  
Didn't she know that I was a monster by nature?  
—'Everything in _your_ power.'

I gazed at Edward. I had grown attached to him. There was something pure and good about his face. Sick as he was, he was still beautiful, and as a vampire, I was attracted to that beauty, that goodness, that strength. It was clear that he had only hours left before he would follow the thousands of others like him into the uncertain afterlife. Only, Edward wasn't like those thousands of others. He was someone I cared about. He was someone who I could make like me. He felt like my own son.

This was not fair. I had asked, with all the fervency I could muster, that God be willing to spare these two out of all the lives that would end by the end of another week. Surely He could be satisfied with another thousand souls. He didn't need to take these two. I believed that He was more merciful than my father had said He was. Truly He was a compassionate God, willing to heal more than to pass judgment.

I may not be all powerful, but I believed that God was. I would not usurp His position as Creator and Healer. I was no Messiah. But if God really heard me, He would create a way to save Edward and his mother. Could He see how good Edward was, could He heal him? If there was some way that I could suffer in his place, I wouldn't hesitate for one moment. I felt an outpouring of affection well up inside me toward the boy laying next to his dying mother, fighting for his own breath. Couldn't God see how much I loved him?

* * *

_ Can You hear me?  
Am I getting through tonight?  
Can You see him?  
Can You make him feel all right?  
If You can hear me  
Let me take his place somehow  
See, he's not just anyone  
He's my son_

* * *

I did care for him. Edward's mother wasn't the only one that hovered over him as he slept. I, too, had watched as he tossed and turned with the sickness. I would find myself imagining the life he could have lived if he and his family hadn't been stricken with this dread influenza.

I had overheard enough mutterings from Elizabeth, early on in the sickness, to know that her greatest worry before the influenza struck was that her son would be drafted into the Great War. That horrid war, she called it. He was only one year away from the lowered draft age. Even as she berated herself for the irony, I understood her worry. Just thinking of Edward surviving the influenza only to go on and be killed for his nation's sense of honor. . . the thought still sickened me.

And so, I had visualized Edward as a strong young man, coming home from a day at work, to a loving wife and family. I was sure that this would be his true heart's desire, if he knew himself. It echoed my own desire for companionship.

How could Elizabeth have known what I could do to her son? I could provide a route that surpassed all human understanding; I could give him immortality. But perhaps that was glorifying this existence too much. Would I doom him to this life? Perhaps I could persuade him to follow my own strictures, but that would have to be up to him. I wouldn't, _couldn't_, take that much of his choice from him.

But, no, I couldn't take his agency now. To doom him to a sleepless, thirsting, immortal existence or to watch him die of the influenza within hours. What sort of a choice is that? I didn't want to make that choice. I feared what I would choose for him out of my own selfishness.

* * *

_ Sometimes late at night I watch him sleep  
I dream of the boy he'd like to be  
I try to be strong and see him through  
But God who he needs right now is You_

* * *

The best option for Edward, and the least likely to happen, was if he could somehow, through the power and grace of God, survive the influenza. He would be able to live a well rounded human life, find love, find happiness, and grow old in his joy.

He wouldn't have to live with the fear that ate at me, day after day. The fear of discovery, the fear of not being able to meet the challenges of the coming day, the fear of his own nature.

No, I wouldn't choose this life for anyone. Not even Edward. Especially not Edward. I cared for him too much.

I heard Elizabeth's breathing grow more shallow, more labored, and her heartbeat fluttered so weakly. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her son, not even to help ease her last moments.

* * *

_ Let him grow old  
Live life without this fear_

* * *

Edward curled on his cot, gripping his head as another fevered headache pained him. I automatically brushed his bronze hair out of his eyes, trying to soothe him with my cool touch on his face. He seemed to relax slightly.

I stared at him, knowing that the best option for him, my favored dream, would never happen. If I left him here, he would die.

Would I truly be a monster then? Was there no way around this conundrum? I was a monster if I doomed him to a life like mine; I was a monster if I ignored his mother's wish and allowed him to die a natural death.

Her _last_ wish, I corrected myself sadly, as the silence from her cot overwhelmed me. Elizabeth hadn't even been unconscious an hour. I dimly registered that it had been fifty three minutes and thirty two seconds since she had made her last request. And now she was gone.

The shock was enough to jerk me out of my trance. I pulled my gaze from her son and focused on Elizabeth once more. Hers was such a tragic death. Unexpected. As much as Edward's potential death had pained me, I hadn't expected Elizabeth to die before her son. I hadn't even considered the possibility before tonight. Black Thursday was truly an appropriate nickname for today.

The color was already starting to fade from her cheeks, but so minutely that only I would be able to tell. The fever that was raging through her at the time of her death had turned and begun the ultimate cooling that happens as every human dies.

The expression on her face was haunting.

Even in death, there wasn't peace. Her face had not relaxed, and showed no signs of smoothing out as her body prepared to go into the stiffness of death. This was such a horrible death... I slowly shook my head, wanting to grieve properly, wanting to cry, and knowing that it was physically impossible.

Surely I had to find a companion soon; someone to make into my friend. Was Edward this companion? If I let Edward go, would I ever attach myself to anyone?

What was the right choice to make?

* * *

_ What would I be  
Living without him here_

* * *

I looked between the mother and the son, tormented by my thoughts, torn by my desires, Elizabeth's last demand still ringing in my head.

The memory of a few words I had overheard Edward mutter before falling into a restless, exhausted sleep came to the forefront of my perfect memory. 'I don't want to die,' he had murmured. Elizabeth had been out of her bed during that incident, and stroked his face with a wet rag. She had reassured him that he would live, that he would be happy and joyful. The look of fear that had come into his eyes had vanished at her touch and her words.

He had feared and then been comforted by one he trusted. Who would comfort him now, as he passed ever closer to death? I didn't know what it was like, to experience the human fear of death. I had been changed when I was young; I hadn't had any experiences that would cause the slow creeping fear to come upon me. I had still trusted in my youth and invincibility. And then I was made into a creature that was truly invulnerable.

I tried to remember back to my thoughts as I was changed from human to vampire. I remembered the pain, and the fear of the monster that was overtaking me, changing me, making me thirst. I couldn't pinpoint any time I had felt truly threatened by death.

The concept puzzled me, and I thought on it a moment longer. A moment I shouldn't waste. But I was still undecided, wasn't I?

Edward's eyes suddenly snapped open, and he gazed into mine without truly knowing what he was seeing.

His pain, his fear, radiated from those striking emerald eyes. He had exactly the same shape and shade of eyes as his mother. As he closed his eyes, Elizabeth's plea rang in my head once more, and I knew my decision was made. 'Save him!'

* * *

_ He's so tired and he's scared  
Let him know that You're there_

* * *

I knew that I had made my decision on a whim, but somehow that caused me to feel even more resolved in my course of action. Filled with the determination of my hasty decision, not allowing myself to rethink it again, knowing that Edward had only hours left, I hurried as fast as I dared to call for a passenger trolley and get a cart and go back to the room Elizabeth had just died in.

I marked both Edward and Elizabeth as having died from the sickness on their records. My only fear was that one of the other doctors would come in to the room while I was gone, taking Elizabeth to the morgue, and notice Edward still breathing. However, I trusted in the fact that we were dreadfully understaffed tonight. I had learned upon my arrival that three doctors that usually covered the night shift with me had taken sick. I had never before been grateful to be understaffed, but tonight was an exception to all rules. All too soon for my liking, I would be too busy to help in the hospital. I frowned to myself, then nodded as I gently moved Elizabeth's body to the cart. It was time for me to move on anyway. My decision was ultimately for the best. I could yet keep my promise to the woman whose body I was wheeling to the morgue.

I dropped her body off, making all the necessary, routine steps that identified her body for those that would come after. I carefully arranged her limbs into a peaceful pose, and turned back to get Edward. I had heard no sign of humans in the area of the morgue. It was completely silent of human movements and noises. I thought out my route as I rode the trolley back to the hospital. It must be precise if I expected to continue my charade eventually. And Edward would want to come back, after the change, after he gains control again. He would want the human mementos that his parents would have left him to help him remember the life he lived here.

Edward had slipped back into a light exhausted sleep by the time I made it back to his room. His breathing was shallow, but still steady. His heartbeat kept up a regular rhythm as I carefully loaded him onto the cart, positioning him so that his breathing wouldn't be nearly as noticeable if someone caught a glimpse of him.

I wheeled him out of that room as slowly as I had wheeled his mother and all those others whom I had been unable to save. I made my way to the morgue, unquestioned, unobserved, and took Edward out of the trolley. His heart pumped weakly against both of our chests, reminding me of how little time there was left, if I was to fulfill my promise. I took one last glance at Elizabeth's face, and it seemed to me to have gained some measure of peace.

The morgue was still conveniently empty—of the living, at least. I stole him out the back door of the morgue, and carried him across the rooftops back to my home. I paused there, gathering my worldly possessions, knowing that if Edward experienced the excruciating pain that I had gone through, this house was too close to civilization.

Trying to come up with a viable solution, I remembered that soon after being checked into the hospital, Elizabeth and Edward were debating about leaving for their summer home in hopes that the country air would cure their sickness. But they hadn't specified where that summer home was. I narrowed my eyes in frustration. That would have been the perfect solution.

In my irritation, I said aloud, 'Where is your summer home, Edward?' I didn't expect an answer. Edward had to be completely unconscious by now. However, he once again surprised me by muttering in a weak voice, 'Senachwine Lake.'

Truly? That was only a few minutes run for a vampire. Each second counted for Edward now and I ran as fast as I possibly could to reach there in time to keep my promise.

As I ran, I thought about my near constant prayers that Edward be spared the death that was looming over him because of the influenza, and was nearly struck blind by the realization that came to me in that instant. What if I was the answer to my own prayers? If Elizabeth was correct, and my decision to save Edward worked, then Edward would not die because of the sickness.

That thought was enough to provide me the extra strength I would need to see through these next few days.

As I laid him out on a pallet in an airy summer home, I wasn't sure what had to be done. Remembering my own transformation for the second time this night, I settled for recreating the wounds I myself had received. It was the only way to be truly sure that the attempt would work, and I knew that I only had one chance to make it work, or I'd loose Edward forever.

My teeth cut through his skin like butter, and I tasted for the very first time the sweetness that is human blood. I fully understood now how easy it would be to succumb to the monster inside, but my promise came rushing back to me, and I remembered my purpose. My years of training myself to resist the temptation that was human blood paid off, and I was able to watch with compassion and apologize for making Edward go through this agony, as he began to cry out from the pain of the venom burning through his veins.

Three nights and two days I sat with him, reliving my own pain as we both suffered through his. I counted the minutes as my venom changed him, made him like me, made him a vampire.

* * *

_ Can You hear me?  
Am I getting through tonight?  
Can You see him?  
Can You make him feel all right?  
If You can hear me  
Let me take his place somehow  
See, he's not just anyone  
He's my son_

* * *

As the sun sunk in the sky on the third day, Edward stopped screaming, although he kept his eyes closed. I suspected he had discovered that the burning had begun to fade from his extremities, and that crying out from the pain did not ease it. In the now heavy silence, I wondered how to explain, how to control, how to persuade Edward. It wouldn't be easy. And so, I started to explain to him right then what he was turning into.

I thought it best to do that before he discovered his newfound strength, and any other gifts he might possess. I talked to him: I told him my story and how I came to be changed into a vampire, told him of Aro and the Volturi, told him of the events leading up to this dreadful changing, of his mother's last wish, and how I had honored it.

His heart sped up suddenly, and his body arched in pain as the venom worked to suffocate his heart and complete the transformation. I felt a strange combination of apprehension and resignation. I recognized, fully, for the first time that this whole ordeal was out of my hands. Even though I was the creator and the healer, there was a greater Healer and a greater Creator than myself on whose tender mercies Edward and I both relied now. And then, it was over. Edward's heart had stopped.

For only the duration of one human heartbeat, as twilight faded into darkness, Edward lay still. Then with startling speed, his eyelids flew open and I gazed into the burning, swirling, fiery red eyes of my equal, my brother, my . . . _son_.

* * *

_ Can You hear me?  
Can You see him?  
Please don't leave him  
He's my son_

* * *

A/N: Well there it is. My first Twilight one-shot. You decide if you get more. I have an idea for a possible extension, but I won't post it without encouragement. Speaking of encouragement. . . I do need more reviews on my HP story, Cat, Rat, and Dog. Check it out.

Extras: Four facts I learned while doing research for this fanfic:

1) The populace was required to wear face masks while out in public. The board of health considered it cheap and convenient protection against the disease.

2) The newspaper article I included in the beginning was actually printed in the October 15, 1918 Chicago newspaper, and the text that I found will be included in full after the song lyrics. By the way, I disclaim ownership of the article. I am certainly not Edward's age or older.

3) The worst day of the epidemic in Chicago was Black Thursday, October 17, 1918, when 381 people died and nearly 1,200 more contracted the illness in a single 24-hour period. The city ran out of hearses, and had to use passenger trolleys draped in black to transport the dead.

4) There were more victims of the Spanish Influenza epidemic in one year than in four years of the Bubonic Plague, otherwise known as the Black Death. And yet, history remembers the latter and glazes over the former.

Thanks for Reading!

* * *

Here's all the lyrics in one place.

Mark Schultz - He's My Son  
From the album Mark Schultz

_I'm down on my knees again tonight  
I'm hoping this prayer will turn out right  
See there is a boy that needs Your help  
I've done all that I can do myself  
His mother is tired  
I'm sure You can understand  
Each night as he sleeps  
She goes in to hold his hand  
And she tries not to cry  
As the tears fill her eyes_

_Can You hear me?  
Am I getting through tonight?  
Can You see him?  
Can You make him feel all right?  
If You can hear me  
Let me take his place somehow  
See, he's not just anyone  
He's my son_

_Sometimes late at night I watch him sleep  
I dream of the boy he'd like to be  
I try to be strong and see him through  
But God who he needs right now is You  
Let him grow old  
Live life without this fear  
What would I be  
Living without him here  
He's so tired and he's scared  
Let him know that You're there_

_Can You hear me?  
Am I getting through tonight?  
Can You see him?  
Can You make him feel all right?  
If You can hear me  
Let me take his place somehow  
See, he's not just anyone  
He's my son_

_Can You hear me?  
Can You see him?  
Please don't leave him  
He's my son_

* * *

Thanks for reading!!

Here's the full article in case anyone wanted to read it and learn about Dr. Drake.

* * *

**THE INFLUENZA EPIDEMIC**

(Special to Henry Republican)

Chicago, Oct. 15 -- The results of a state wide survey by telegraph of every Illinois community of 1,000 population or over, given out here tonight by Dr. C. St. Clari Drake, director of the state department of public health, show that 227 cities and towns in Illinois have been hit by the epidemic of Spanish influenza. The number of cases reported in these communities in 55,725 of which 17,943 are in Chicago, and 37,782 down state. There have been 2,264 deaths from influenza and pneumonia in Chicago and 491 in the down state communities which have been reported.

Convinced that the epidemic had reached proportions which required prompt and vigorous measures, the state department of health has ordered that all theaters, including moving picture shows, all night schools, all lodges and all places of public amusement, closed until the epidemic subsides. All public schools which are lacking in adequate medical and nursing supervision were included in the order.

"From the information we now have", said Dr. Drake, "we believe that every community in Illinois will be affected by influenza before the epidemic subsides. On the basis of the reports which reached us today, we estimate that there are now more than 170,000 cases in the state outside of Chicago.

An analysis of the influenza situation in Chicago today shows that the epidemic has not reached its crest here. Fore the week ending September 28, there were 598 cases reported in Chicago with 176 deaths. During the week ending October 7 there were 6,106 cases reported with 627 deaths. The week which ended October 14 produced 11,239 cases and 1,461 deaths. The total number of deaths from influenza and pneumonia in Chicago during the past three weeks was 2,264 compared with an average of 156 for the same period during the past five years.

Although the situation is bad in many down state communities, it will get worse before it gets better, according to members of the state influenza commission, which meets daily. The town of Assumption in Christian county, with a population of 1,918 has reported 500 cases and has called for help. There are only four doctors and one registered nurse in the town.

Greenup, with a population of 1,224, reported 400 cases. Two doctors live in Greenup and both are ill with influenza. Peoria reports 10,000 cases and Rockford 6,000. In Peoria two emergency hospitals have been equipped, and in Rockford, medical help has been loaned from Camp Grant, where the epidemic is rapidly being brought under control.

More than 1,200 cases have been reported in Kankakee. Cairo reports 500. Marengo, with a population of 1,872, reported 496 and has asked for the help of outside doctors and nurses. Nokomis, which has a population of 1,973 has reported over 600 cases with no hospital facilities available. Bloomington reports 1,200 cases with 11 deaths.

The state health department urges extreme care in order to prevent, so far as possible, the needless further spread of the contagion. All persons are warned to keep away from crowds, to avoid the person who sneezes, coughs and spits without covering the face with a cloth, and to consult a physician immediately upon the first symptoms of what may seem to be an ordinary cold.

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